


Writer's block

by LazySundayMusings



Category: Peter Kay's Car Share (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-13 11:51:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazySundayMusings/pseuds/LazySundayMusings
Summary: Neither Jim nor John can come up with new material for Compendium.Set after the day away in S2x03.





	1. Saturday band practice

Jim and John had cut band practice short after things had ground to a halt. The first part - the actual practice - went well like it always did. They’d both turned up keen to play, had treated the first hour like a dress rehearsal and ran through two standard sets of songs as if they were live shows, complete with the ‘spontaneous’ crowd banter. The second part was the new ideas/jam session where they would come up with new ideas for songs to cover as part of their sets, with a brief jam to start adapting the songs to their guitar/keyboards setup. But it was third part that had stalled immediately. This was the time when they would demo the original material they would each be working on. But neither had anything new to offer, and not for the first time. After less than five minutes they mutually agreed to call it quits for the day so packed up their gear and headed off to have a late lunch in the pub. Their ‘after-match function’ as they called it. Their chance to talk about the practice without the distraction of their instruments being there. Jim hadn’t initially been convinced that it would be of any benefit - “musicians need their instruments, John” - but had come to appreciate how the lack of distractions gave them the opportunity to honestly evaluate each practice. Jim nabbed a table while John ordered their meals from the bar. He expected that the discussion was likely to be a spirited one, given the ongoing lack of original material. What he didn’t expect was to see John coming back with beers for both of them.

Jim stared then pointed at John’s glass. “Really? You basically don’t drink, so why are you having a half? And why are you having a half of that fizzy filth?” With Jim, if it wasn’t real ale then it wasn’t real beer.  
John smiled and had a mouthful. His smile faded. “Yeah, it’s not great, but I just felt like it, you know? And it’s not as bad as that murky muck you like. Anyway. If you forget the last bit, this morning went all right, really. I like some of the suggestions for new covers, and coming up with different arrangements will be an interesting challenge.” His face fell. “But I just can’t come up with any new stuff. We can’t keep relying on “In the City” - we’ve got to have another one. Preferably three or four.”  
“It’s not just you though,” said Jim. “I’m thin on ideas as well. It’s happened before but we got past it. Maybe we just need to take a break from it for a while?”  
John shook his head. “I don’t know - don’t like the idea of just not trying any more.”  
“No,” said Jim, “what I mean is, rather than trying to crank out a new song every week or so, we just don’t focus on it. Just listen to other stuff, different styles, not specifically looking for things to cover, but look for new ideas. You know - ‘a change is as good as a rest’ and all that.”  
“Still sounds like giving up to me.”  
“No. Think about it. We came up with “City” after we were gigging in the North Quarter, remember? You were telling me about all the half-naked drunk girls you’d been eyeing up from the stage between songs, and we turned that into “Eyes are staring, you’re hardly wearing a thing tonight.” That was the direct result of your lechery, sir.”  
“Christ man,”, said John as he looked around, “could you say that any louder?”  
Jim grinned. “Yes I can, but I don’t think you really want that, do you?”  
John made a face. “Actually, no.”  
Jim continued. “Well, think about some of the really great stuff that’s come out.” He started to count off with his fingers.  
“Fleetwood Mac when they hated each other and were all putting it about, The Stones when they were just off their heads, Deep Purple when the casino caught fire, Hendrix when he was cold and got yelled at for not washing the dishes properly.”  
John looked confused. “You what?”

“Deep Purple didn’t all wake up one morning and think ‘Let’s write a song called “Smoke on the Water” - I wonder what it’ll be about?’ Stuff happened that inspired them to start writing, yeah?”  
John nodded. “I’m with ya. So, rather than just trying to write songs to a schedule, we just take note of what’s going on and save it up?”  
“That’s it. So. What is going on with you? Your boss still an arse? Had any more thoughts about leaving?”  
“Well, you don’t know the half of it...”

With the band-discussion behind them, their conversation was relaxed and was barely interrupted by the arrival of their meals. They moved easily through the usual topics of work, gripes, holiday plans and eventually to families. At this point John raised his eyebrows.

“I forgot to ask - how is your Penny? Have you seen the baby yet?”  
“Yep - Karen and I went over. They’re both well, came through it okay.”  
“Did seeing the baby inspire you to write a song then?”  
Jim grimaced. “I got as far as “Oh baby, you are so small but you sure do scream a lot.” Not my best work, but it might do for a country song.”  
They both laughed.


	2. Wednesday with John and Kayleigh

Right on time John pulled up to the small Bury house. No one was outside but he could see some movement through the main window. He turned the car off and sat in silence. One minute passed, then two, then three.

He briefly considered using the horn, or even going up and knocking on the door but the car was warm and he had no real appetite for going to work at all today, let alone get there in a hurry. So he just sat and thought. Thought about band practice on Saturday morning. How it had gone so well initially - right up to the point where they were due to demo their own work, and they both had nothing. Again. He had been genuinely surprised that Jim hadn’t come up with anything but took some comfort from Jim’s optimistic attitude. As for his own lack of material... he was starting to think that he just couldn’t do it any more, had nothing more to offer. Being creative and expressive through music - through his lyrics in particular - had cheered him up for as long as he could remember, helped him focus when he couldn’t get his act together. But right now it seemed that his creativity had deserted him.

John was startled by the sound of knocking to his left. He looked up and across to see Kayleigh standing outside with her hands in the air. “Are you going to let me in or what?”  
“Oh fuck. Sorry.” He flipped the door release and she got in.  
She looked at him. “Were you just going to leave me outside all day, then?”  
“I said I was sorry, right?” He looked at the clock on the dash. “Anyway, we’ve got plenty of time. Just as well too - you were ages.”  
“I was doing my hair, all right?”  
“Oh yeah,” he replied without looking, his voice flat. The Fiat started to move.  
Kayleigh bit her lip rather than react. This was the third morning when John hadn’t been himself, when the trips had been more polite than friendly. It had been the same in the evenings when his texts were little more than confirmation that he would pick her up the following morning. The previous evening she had mentioned it during dinner, and Mandy and Steve had both agreed that he would be back to his normal self in his own good time and that she should just be patient - but Kayleigh wanted her friend back and was in no mood to wait. And thanks to an innocent comment by Alfie (“Is he feeling better now?”) she knew what to do.

Out the corner of his eye John saw her leaning forward as she looked across at him. “What?”  
“Your face - it’s looking better. Healing, I mean.”  
“Yeah, yeah... it’s getting there.”  
“Did anyone ask how you got scratched like that?”  
“A few, but I told them I’d lost my balance while working in Mum’s rose garden. I’d faked a couple of scratches on my hands as well to make it look convincing. It shut them up. Job done.”  
“Does your Mum have a rose garden?”  
“Yes, but she’ll only let me near it if she wants holes dug and whatever. If I went near her roses with secateurs she’d disown me.”

After a few moments she spoke again. “Oh, hey - I forgot to thank you.”  
“For what?”  
“For making sure it didn’t hurt me.”  
He looked at her. “Well, I wasn’t gonna let it get you, was I? His face started to flush red. “Made sense at the time to try and catch in it me jacket - trust me to forget my monkey-catching kit on the one day I needed it.”  
She laughed. “What rotten luck. But still... thank you for keeping me safe.” She touched and held his arm. “My hero.”  
The red flush was now spreading to his neck. Without a word he flipped on the air conditioning and the air in the car cooled slightly. She noticed but said nothing, patting his arm then looking away to hide her smile.

Kayleigh waited until his flush was fading before she spoke again. “Had any more reactions to the tetanus shot?”  
“No. The soreness stopped after two days, and I didn’t feel sick for very long. My doctor told me that might happen, but not until after she gave me a bollocking for even trying it in the first place. Told me I should have called an animal handler, and I was lucky that little bastard ended up being quite passive in the car. She then told me I was very lucky not to have been bitten, because if I’d needed a rabies shot it would be near the actual bite. Her exact words were, “I won’t lie to you son - it would hurt like a bastard.” Few sentences get your attention quite like that. Not what you expect to hear from a respected doctor in her late fifties.”  
“Was it expensive? The shot, I mean?”  
“Not too bad.”  
“Can you claim it back?”  
“Can’t really. I don’t fancy having to explain to Payroll services why visiting the store in Wigan left me needing a tetanus shot.”

When they pulled into the store carpark John noticed Ted2 but said nothing. Kayleigh did notice, said “Ooh” and started fussing with her hair. Without looking John said “Your hair’s lovely - leave it be”, followed by “What is he doing with that wheelbarrow?” Kayleigh was quiet for a moment then said “I’ve got a barrow-load he could shift,” then started giggling. John looked at her, shook his head then said “You’ve got what? There’s clearly something wrong with your mind.”

Kayleigh was smiling as she looked at the sky through the windscreen. “What a lovely day.” She took a chance. “Since it is such a lovely day, do you fancy having lunch outside for a change? That new place up the road has tables outside that are sheltered and shaded. A nice lunch in the fresh air would be good for you.”  
“Ummmm...”  
“Are you too busy today? Can you not get away at all? Or would you just prefer to stay and ...”  
“No,” he interrupted. Kayleigh turned to him.  
“No, what?”  
“No. I don’t want to stay. Is half-past twelve too late to go for lunch?”  
“No. That would be great.”  
“Right then. I’ll meet you out front at half-twelve.”  
They got out of the car and headed inside.

It was a typical Wednesday morning for both of them. Dave Thompson was preoccupied with mid-month sales results so shut himself away in his office to prepare for the upcoming Area managers’ meeting and left John to actively manage the store operations throughout the morning. Kayleigh had started at her display stand as usual, but from 11 o’clock she and the Promotions team had - with John’s approval - taken over the smaller meeting room to work on ideas for the next rounds of store promotions. One wag had taped a sign saying “Blue Sky Session” to the outside of the door, and they had been amazed that several department heads had paused to read the sign, then moved on while nodding their heads in approval. Free of interruptions, the team had a productive morning and prepared proposals for the next five weeks of planned activities, covering the period until the Christmas season got under way. And they had fun doing it, a welcome side-effect of being manager-free. At 12:15 Kayleigh excused herself from the group.

At 12:25 John’s computer beeped and the reminder he’d set flashed up on the screen. He took a couple of minutes to save his work then logged out of the computer, got his jacket and headed outside through the main doors. It was brighter than he expected and he found himself squinting before his eyes adjusted to the light. He couldn’t see her anywhere. Then he heard her voice behind him.  
“Hi John.” He turned around, and took a sharp intake of breath.

Wow.

The Kayleigh that had been in his car that morning was beautiful. No doubt about it.  
The Kayleigh standing in front of him was stunning. A hint of colour on her cheeks, red lipstick and dark sunglasses were the only differences, and yet...  
She was smiling now. “Are we just going to stand here?”  
“Er, no. No we’re not,” he replied, regaining some of his composure. “Let’s get going.” As they started walking John made a quick diversion to his car to retrieve his own sunglasses. He felt relieved as he put them on - not just to shield his eyes from the sun, not just to hide his eyes so it wouldn’t be obvious where he was looking, but mainly because he suddenly felt very fat and plain next to this woman and the sunglasses offered him a semblance of a disguise.

Just over ten minutes later they were seated at a table outside the cafe. While John had been inside ordering their meals, Kayleigh had taken the opportunity to check and tweak her makeup. Mandy had helped her find this makeup/lipstick combination the previous night, with the hope that it would provoke some kind of reaction from John. Well, seeing him standing there outside the store, staring, lost for words, was better than Kayleigh had hoped. Now she just wanted to get him talking.

The cafe wasn’t as busy as they had expected and they were able to choose a table away from the other diners. John had brought cold drinks for each of them that they sipped in silence as they waited for their meals to arrive.  
Eventually John spoke. “Nice place.”  
“Hmmm. Bit quiet though, for a new place, don’t you think?”  
“Yeah. On a day like this, a new place should be packed. I’d worried that we might not get a seat, or have to wait ages, but no.” He lowered his voice. “Maybe the food’s shit?”  
Kayleigh glanced up. “Shhhh. We’re about to find out. Here it comes.”  
The server approached their table. “Here is your crumbed fish,” placing the plate in front of Kayleigh, “and your salad,” placing the plate in front of John. “Thank you,” they said in unison as he left. John noted that Kayleigh watched him walk away.  
John wasted no time getting started on his lunch, but stopped when he noticed that Kayleigh wasn’t eating. “What?”  
“You’ve got a salad?”  
“Yeah, so?” John shifted uncomfortably.  
“You are having a salad.” She looked at him quizzically.  
“Yeah. Well, it’s a nice day, so...” He sighed. “No, it’s Cassie’s idea.”  
Kayleigh hesitated. “Okay... um, who’s that then?”  
“My doctor.”  
She looked relieved. “You’re on a first-name basis with your doctor?”  
“Family doctor. We got to know her pretty well when she was looking after Dad. Anyway, when she wasn’t scaring me with talk about rabies-shots, she was trying to scare me with talk about cholesterol and blood pressure and heart disease.” He pointed to his plate. “Hence this.”  
“Does this mean you’re off your chips from now on?”  
“I told ya - they’re a treat. Cassie’s fine with that, but she told me to start eating properly and look after myself or she’d tell my Nan on me. Bit strong, I thought.”

They didn’t say much as they ate, just the occasional comment to break the silence. It seemed to John that Kayleigh was a bit quiet, like she was waiting for something.

“How did your session go this morning? “ asked John.  
Kayleigh looked directly into his eyes. “I don’t care about work, John. Are you all right? You’re all quiet this week, you don’t seem happy. Is it work? Is it what your doctor said?”  
John tried a small dismissive wave. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”  
She wasn’t having it. “John. Come on.”  
He hesitated, looking at her, then his plate, then her again. And decided. “It’s about the band...” and gave her a rundown of their practices and their ongoing lack of original material. He finished with “...Jim says he’s fine with it but I feel like I’m letting him down. And I hate being crap at anything, but that seems to be all I’m capable of at the moment.”

Kayleigh thought about that. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”  
“You are. Getting me away from the store for a while on a nice day. Top idea.”  
She smiled. “So, what do you think of this place then?”  
He rubbed his chin. “Nice meal, good prices, good service, surprised it’s not busier, deserves to be busier. I’ve enjoyed it. Mind you, that’s also because I have excellent company.”  
“Could you put that in a song somehow? Do you just find things that rhyme?”  
He smiled. “It doesn’t work quite like that.”  
“Well, how about something like... um... er... “She had fish that was on a nice dish, I had salad that wasn’t bad, on the table that was quite stable, drank from a tall glass brought by the waiter with a nice arse...”  
“What? Steady on...”  
She continued - “and the biscuits looked bloody amazing!”

John was laughing now. “I’m not sure there’s a place in our set for that song. But you have cheered me up, so thank you for that.” He looked thoughtful. “Maybe we could try some funny songs for a change. Hmmmm...” He made a face. “But I am not going to sing about some “waiter with a nice arse” - your mate Diane off Non-Foods would have a field day.” He glanced at her watch. “Speaking of arses, I have a phone call booked with Area office in 20 minutes so we’d better go.”  
“Pity,” she replied.

During the walk back she was again transformed from his friend Kayleigh to the same stunning woman that had received the admiring glances on their way to the cafe. And he realised what it was. The way she held herself, the confident manner, the confident walk. The attitude. It was sexy as hell.

Once back at the store they went in and headed in separate directions. He paused and took the opportunity to watch her walk away, noting the glances she was receiving from some staff and customers alike. “Nice arse indeed.” He headed to his office. “Typical of her though,” he mused, “if it’s not one Ted it’s another.”

They didn’t see each other again until it was time to head home. Kayleigh made a quick purchase on the way out and they headed to the car. To John it seemed that Kayleigh didn’t have the makeup and lipstick any more, and it took a couple of extra glances before he was certain.  
She noticed he was looking across at her. “You all right over there?”  
“Did you buy some bits and then forget them?”  
“No, I bought an iTunes card for our Alfie. He was the one who reminded me that I hadn’t thanked you after that monkey business.”  
“Well. I guess he’s not such a little... demon after all, then,” said John.  
Kayleigh arched her eyebrows. “Were you going to say something else then?”  
“Of course not,” John lied.

The roads were busier than usual and seemingly filled with driving-school dropouts. Kayleigh could see that John was stressed so stayed quiet until they were almost in sight of home.  
“Hey - having lunch away was nice today.”  
“Yeah. I enjoyed it. Think I’d try your lunch if I went back.”  
“Would you like to go somewhere else tomorrow?”  
“I can’t - over in Stockport for most of the day. Same on Friday. No reason you can’t go somewhere though.”  
“Oh. Okay.”  
They said their goodbyes and she waved as the Fiat moved away.

Mandy had been watching from the window. Kayleigh gave Alfie his iTunes card - that he appreciated - and a hug - that he didn’t - then took the tea that Mandy was offering.

“Well? How did it go? Did he react?”  
“Not really. He couldn’t help but notice at lunchtime, but then there was nothing.”  
“All right. Tell me what happened.”  
Mandy was quiet for a few moments once Kayleigh finished speaking. “Okay. Well, you know what I’m going to ask. At any point today did you go on about other men you were looking at?”  
“There was Ted2 in the morning. And the waiter at lunchtime. And Ted2 again when we left.”  
Mandy shook her head. “Why on Earth would you think that a straight man would show any interest with your semi-smutty talk about other men? He’s not one of your girlfriends, remember?”  
“But I don’t say that stuff all the time.”  
“Maybe not. But it seems like you say it every time you see that Ted fella. Every time, meaning at least once every day. It's like you’re obsessed with the man.”  
“But it’s just in fun.”  
“It’s only fun when everyone is in on it.”  
Kayleigh bit her lip. “Am I messing this up?”  
“I don’t know. Maybe. But I’m not the person you should be talking to.” She put her hands on Kayleigh’s shoulders then leaned in and spoke quietly.  
“You love him, Kayleigh. It’s time to tell him. But don’t do it when you appear to be leering at someone else.”

“I don’t get it,” thought John as he drove home. “She got dolled up at lunchtime but then it was no different to when we have lunch together in the cafeteria. And then she cleaned it all off. I just don’t understand her. I... I give up.”


	3. Wednesday with Jim

Jim was putting the last of the dishes away when he heard the double-knock, followed by the sound of the front door opening and his sister’s voice. “Hiya Jimmy.”  
“Hey,” he replied, “I’m in the kitchen. Come through.”  
A few moments later Karen walked in, smiled and gave him a gentle punch on the arm. “Any chance of a coffee?”  
“Yep - and make me one while you’re at it. I’ll be starting dinner in about half an hour so grab a biscuit if you’re hungry now. Actually, get some anyway and we’ll have them with the coffees.”  
While Karen started on their drinks Jim stepped through to the little dining room and started to clear away the mess on the table. “How’s Peter?” he called back.  
“Good, yeah,” she answered, “but a bit annoyed that he got roped into the database-thingy tonight and can’t be here.”  
“That’s a bit rough. So when will he be finished?”  
“About three in the morning.”  
“Then a normal day tomorrow?”  
“Yep.”  
Jim poked his head through the doorway. “Sod that.” His head disappeared again. “And how are you doing? Good day then?”  
“Yeah - had a half day - just the morning - then did a half-hour Skype with Penny while Steve and bubs were both asleep. I got some stills as well - I’ll show you later.”  
Jim walked back through. “Cool. Everyone’s right then?”  
“Oh, bubs looked so peaceful, she’s sleeping and eating and crying as expected, Penny says she’s just about sorted, Steve seems to have come to terms with it all. His mum is in each day to help out which is good. I’m back over there on Sunday for the day as well.”  
“Good to hear.”  
They took their drinks through to the dining room.  
“And how about you, Jimmy? You all right? Work all right?”  
“I’m all right. We’re still doing the new townhouses, working on the last of the wiring for lighting, Internet , security and whatever. Had my lunch sitting in the sun today. Really nice view.” He looked thoughtful. “It’d be great to live out there, but there’s just no way.” He reached for the last biscuit but Karen beat him to it. “Hungry, then?”  
“God yeah.”  
“All right, I’ll get started now. Actually, give us a hand would you?”

Together they worked on their dinner. Typically for Jim it was quite plain, but done with care. He took particular pride in ensuring that dinner guests enjoyed their meal - much more than when he ate alone.

Once they’d finished eating Jim rinsed the dishes and left them in the sink - “leave them be” - and they went into the sitting room with more coffee and some cake he’d bought on the way home. As a courtesy to Karen he left the TV off and had the radio playing quietly. She showed him the stills from the Skype session and told him more about the conversation between herself and Penny.

“It was odd how Steve reacted. Didn’t expect that. I mean, in his last deployment before he got out he said they were shot at almost every day. I asked him how he dealt with it, and he said - what was it? He said, “The training takes over. You trust your training, you trust your mates and you keep going until you get the job done or run out of luck.” I guess there’s no training for being the father at a difficult birth.”  
Jim nodded. “I reckon”.  
Karen was silent. Jim noticed she was just looking at him.  
“What?”  
“Do you think there’s any chance that you and Emma will patch things up?”  
“No.”  
She looked surprised. “No chance at all? But I thought you two were a pretty good match.”  
“So did I, but it turns out I didn’t really know her after all. I don’t get why she ever agreed to go out in the first place if my being an electrician was never going to be good enough for her.”  
“Do you think she said it as an excuse?”  
He shrugged. “I don’t know. No point thinking about it.”

She changed tack. “How’s the band going?”  
“Good enough. Still getting gigs, just not as many as we’d like. Enough to help pay the bills but we’d like to do more. We’ve got plenty of songs we can pick from and we’d like to do more of our own stuff but just can’t come up with anything new.”  
“I’m sure you’ll get inspired along the way. Do you still stick to the duo-format, or do you both get to do a solo or two?”  
“Almost always duos, although sometimes John will sing one or two by himself.”  
“Jimmy. You’ve got a great voice. There are lots of songs you could sing as lead if you wanted to. Don’t just do harmonies or stick to being John’s backup singer just because he’s your mate.”  
“It’s not a competition, Karen.”  
“You’re missing the point. There are lots of songs that suit you as a singer, meaning there are lots of songs that you could add to your sets, meaning there are lots of different songs to be inspired by. Remember how you used to do 'Heartbreak Hotel' when you were learning guitar? It sounded good even when you were having a laugh. You could be up front with that and John could tinkle on his keyboard at the back.”  
“Interesting...”  
“How about a guitar and keyboards version of ‘Bennie and the Jets’, with a big crowd clapping along? That could be great.”  
“Okay... I see what you’re saying. I’m a bit rusty on lead vocals though.”  
“You could go busking.”  
“What - for pity-donations?”  
“No. For practice, you fool. More cake, please.”

Karen happily took one of the two plates Jim brought back from the kitchen. “How is John, then? Has he got things sorted with his lady friend yet?”  
Jim rolled his eyes. “He’s still in denial. Either that, or he’s waiting to see if she’ll make a move so he doesn’t have to and won’t get burned if he gets it wrong.”  
She sniffed. “If she is keen on him she might make a move. Or she might just lose patience and look for someone else. Can you not talk to him?”  
“I tried that, but after what happened with Emma I basically have no credibility in terms of women or relationships. Hell - I wouldn’t listen to me either.”  
She thought about that. “Try again anyway. He’s your mate.”

It was just after nine o’clock while Karen was preparing to leave when she asked “What are you up to on Saturday morning?”  
“Nowt.”  
“Good - let’s go find some buskers to watch.”  
“I haven’t said I’ll do it yet.”  
“Even if you don’t end up doing it, you’ll still get some ideas about what they’re doing, what appeals to the locals, what doesn’t work. And I’ll buy you lunch.”  
“Deal.”


	4. Saturday with Jim and Karen

Karen had arranged to pick Jim up that morning because she would be able to park in her designated spot in the secure park near the lab where she worked. Jim had turned down the offer of extra paid work to come along and still wasn’t convinced it would be useful, but the weather was nice and he welcomed any chance to spend time with his older sister. With a rough circuit worked out they set off and within a few minutes they were part of the Saturday morning shopping crowd.

It wasn’t long before they heard the sound of a nearly-tuned guitar playing something unrecognisable. They saw the culprit around the next corner - a 20-something-year-old with an expensive-looking guitar but no talent - and moved on without saying a word.

They crossed the street and walked to an open area where a small crowd had gathered to listen as a teenage girl sang a cheery number, accompanying herself on guitar. Jim and Karen paused, then Jim made to move away.  
Karen held his arm and leaned in. “Are you not even going to stop and listen?”  
“No thanks. Terrible, kiddie-pop shit.”  
Karen arched her eyebrows at him. “You’re very judgemental for someone in a covers band.”  
Jim bristled.  
Karen poked her tongue at him. “Listen. Forget that it’s terrible and you hate it and it shouldn’t be allowed. Forget all that and just look. What do you see? You’re used to being on stage and being the centre of attention. This girl is on one side of an open area, with a lot of shops and other distractions, but she’s got a crowd and she’s holding it, with just a guitar and her voice. So, what is she doing and why is it working?”  
Jim folded his arms and looked around. “Hmmm... side-on to the sun so it’s not shining in the eyes of herself or the crowd, wide flat surface behind her so the crowd is in front and the sound projects forwards, simple playing technique so not likely to make many mistakes, good clear voice...” Jim was warming to this now. “Sensible song choice, well known, people can clap along to it, she’s clearly having fun with it.”  
“What about this area where we are now?”  
“It forces people through a smaller space and they get slowed down and can’t help but hear it, it’s a little way away from the road so there’s less traffic noise.”  
“And how about her playing and singing?”  
He was quiet for a moment while he listened. “Doesn’t sound like she’s been playing for very long, simple playing style, nice voice though, confident. She’s doing all right.”  
“Okay. Now go and put some money in her case.”  
“Um, why?”  
“As encouragement to keep doing it, in case you need to be inspired again. Plus you can take a look at the setup from her perspective. Go on, do it now, between songs. And say something nice about her playing and singing. Or you won’t get any lunch.”  
“Fine.”

Once he was back they moved on. Two streets away an older woman was playing a flute, standing just inside the doorway of a long-closed shop.  
Karen nudged Jim. “Thoughts?”  
“Less traffic, a smaller area but across from some tables outside these quieter coffee shops, playing what’s almost like dinner music. Won’t be getting much of a response from people walking by or anyone sitting and eating. There’s no money to be made here. You could try new material but won’t get much of an idea if it’s working or not.”  
“Okay - put money in the case and we’ll get moving.”

They did this three more times - the two young dancers who couldn’t have been much older than nine or ten but obviously practiced a lot, the violin-duo who were technically very competent but had no crowd-appeal, and a trio that Jim recognised from some clubs where he and Jim had played a few times. At this point, thoroughly buskered-out, Karen called a halt to proceedings and took Jim to a small quiet cafe near her work where she bought lunch as promised.

The fresh air had done wonders for Jim’s appetite so he went up for more doughnuts and refills for their coffees. They finished these while discussing the relative merits of the performers they’d seen that morning. Karen had been particularly impressed by how young some of them had been, their “bravery” (as she put it) to go out there in the first place, and the talent they obviously had.  
She nudged his foot under the table. “I don’t doubt for a second that you’re better than everyone out there today. Whether or not you choose to do it is up to you. There’s nothing that says you can’t make a name for yourself as a solo performer.”  
“Is that right, Yoko?” Jim joked.  
“I’m not breaking up your band. I’m just saying that this could be good for you as a musician.” She paused. “There is something else, though. If John does get his shit together with Kayleigh, he’s gonna be focussed on being all loved-up, rather than being in a band. For a while, anyway.”   
Jim nodded. “Oh, sure. And fair enough, too.”  
“Have you talked to him yet?”  
“Haven’t had a chance. But he’s coming around to mine on Wednesday to work on song-ideas. I’ll talk to him then.”


	5. Wednesday evening with Jim and John

The first part of the ideas-session had gone very well. They had both come up with good song choices to flesh out their typical sets and could now bid for different work - blues clubs, country music festivals (if they were desperate), classic English 60’s hits shows, coffee houses - as well as their regular gigs. They’d also taken on a suggestion by Kayleigh - “for God’s sake learn something newer” - plus one by Karen - “find something fun so the crowd can join in” - and felt they now had more to offer as a band.

They didn’t have high hopes for the next part - discussing any original material. With just one sheet of paper each, they basically knew that little, if anything, would come of it this time.  
John spoke up. “Come on then - let’s get this over and done with” and they exchanged and reviewed their “homework” as Jim had described it. It didn’t take long.

“Christ, Jim,” said John, “are we just crap at this?”  
“No,” replied Jim, “we’re not crap. We just haven’t come up with material that’s suitable for any of our sets. My stuff shows me as a bitter and boring old git with nothing to write about, which is mostly true, and you...” he took a quick look at the lyrics and rubbed his chin, “if you sing this, if you bare your soul with this, every performance... it’ll break you.” He smiled at his friend. “A one-two of “Love is misery” and “She makes me feel like nothing” will be the end of any paid gigs on Valentines Day, or New Years Eve, or any event with “Fun” in the name.”  
“Fair point. So what should we do with them?”  
“I can’t imagine these ever being part of a Compendium set, frankly.”  
“Should we just bin them?”  
“I won’t miss mine if I bin it. Although I do feel better for having thought about things and writing them down. But, as for yours - I’ve been thinking about this for a while - have you considered writing material for other people?”  
“Do what?”  
“Be a songwriter, for pay. Well, maybe not at first, but over time, to make a name for yourself.”  
“I don’t get it.”  
“Look.” Jim held up the lyric sheet. “This just isn’t Compendium material. But someone might be able to something with it. It’s something I’ve seen on the message boards in the studio - there’s notes from people offering material, notes from people looking for material to record. You wouldn’t have to focus on writing stuff for us to play, you can just write down whatever comes to mind, and maybe there will be a buyer for it. A bit of pocket money, maybe?”  
John sat quietly for a few moments. “I’d never thought of doing it. Reckon I could?”  
“Yeah. And I really think you should give it a try.”

Jim left John alone with his thoughts while he got them both a refill. When he returned he passed the tea to John, then hesitated before he spoke.  
“There’s something else. You know how we sometimes limit what we play outside because it can sound a bit weedy with just us two? Well, young Charlie at the studio plays bass and wouldn’t mind helping us out with the outdoor gigs. She doesn’t do vocals, though.”  
“Um - how will she feel about being on stage with us two... old... farts?”  
“Fine. She’s in her thirties, been playing for nearly twenty years, been in bands for most of that time but does session work now for fun.”   
“You call her “young Charlie” and she’s in her thirties?”  
“Hell, seems like everyone’s younger than me. Look, we’re both in the studio tomorrow night - come by, meet her, have a listen.”  
“How often are you up there now?”  
“Twice a week at the moment. Tuesday, Thursday. It’s been good, had to work at it, can already tell I’m playing better.”  
“Heard anything really good?”  
“No. It’s mostly kiddie-crap, either really simple, or there’s one or two decent bits with nothing special holding it together.”  
“All right then - can you pick me up?”  
“Will do - about 8 o’clock for two hours, okay?”

And with that the band-talk was over. They then worked through the usual topics of work (“bastards”), gripes (“them bastards at work”), holiday plans (“I wish”) and eventually to families. After bringing John up to speed with the news of his new niece, soon to be christened “Amelia”, Jim fell silent and looked pensive. John recognised the look.

“Come on - you’re dying to ask. Out with it.”  
“It’s Karen making me ask this. How’s your bird?”  
“She’s not my bird, all right? How many times do I have to say it? Anyway, right now she’s not completely happy with me, because I made her favourite trolley collector wear a hi-vis jacket so he wouldn’t get run over in the car park.”  
“Right, right... no. That doesn’t make any sense.”  
John just shrugged.  
“Okay, but how’s it going with her?”  
“It’s not. You read what I wrote.”  
“Oh. Sorry mate. So now what?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t know what she’s thinking, I don’t know if I’m reading things wrong. I don’t want to muck things up just because I can’t ... I’m not going to DO anything. I’m just going to drive her to and from work, and be polite, and be her friend, and that will have to be it.”  
Jim looked incredulous. “Have you actually read what you wrote? That will drive you mad. Then what?”  
“I’ll have to get a new buddy. Or change stores. Or something.”  
“What?”


End file.
